


Jaundice

by Tarlan



Category: Blade (Movie Series)
Genre: Character Study, Community: smallfandomfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-02
Updated: 2011-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-14 08:23:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeing King stripped half naked had filled Drake with a spark of passion that had been missing for all these millennia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jaundice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **Smallfandomfest** FEST08

Sometimes he thought he had lived too long, retreating into a hidden tomb for centuries at a time in the hope that the next time he awoke it would be to a better and more interesting world. Drake was not exactly pleased when his rest was broken by a group of sickly vampires who had come _running to daddy_ when a meaner killer started slaying them. If they could not fight their own battles then they were worthless to him except as slightly less nutritious food.

Blade was a new kind of vampire; a hybrid who, like Drake, could walk in sunlight. He had all of a pure vampire's strength and very few of the weaknesses of these modern day vampires. Now, there was a true adversary, and Drake had enjoyed battling against him, measuring the speed of his reflexes and his determination as they fought with sword and hand. Perhaps Blade's only true weakness was his liking for the humans surrounding him...and Drake didn't mean as food. Though Drake had to admit that as a food source, the humans of this century had tainted their blood with drugs and pollution, making them far less appetizing than the last time he had walked the Earth. The vampires he had devoured were just as tasteless with their blood thinned by consuming the weakest of humans. They had shown him one of their blood farms, with brain-dead humans kept alive simply to be drained regularly of their blood like cows being milked in a diary. On impulse, he had tasted the blood, letting his fangs pierce through the plastic bag and drain it almost in a single pull. It had been filled with the aftertaste of the chemicals pumped into the bodies; not fresh, thick and salty...like Hannibal King's.

Drake licked his lips as he recalled the taste that was as insolent as its mouthy owner.

Of all the vampires and humans he had come across since his awakening, only Blade and this human, King, had stood up to him without flinching. Blade was his equal in strength and speed due to his vampire blood, but King was only human and yet he had shown more strength, speed and flexibility than the majority of the pure blood vampires around him. He had flung insults as a barbed weapon too, displaying an intelligence that amused Drake and that had stayed his hand when he attacked these _Nightstalkers_ at their home base. He had only intended to take the child to use as bait for Blade but he had recalled his encounter with King earlier, and how he had amused him enough even then to let him live.

Seeing King stripped half naked and on his knees, shackled to the floor, had filled Drake with a spark of passion that had been missing for all these millennia. And even on his knees King would not bow down to his so-called vampire masters. Instead he taunted them, revealing their inadequacies and their weaknesses, not even flinching when Danica Talos told him her intention of turning him; of leaving him to starve until he could no longer resist the call of blood...and then giving him the child to slaughter.

Drake could tell from the defiance in King's eyes that he would have provoked someone into killing him long before that could happen. Probably that idiot, Jarko Grimwood, whose brain seemed to hold the same capacity as that little vampire dog that he liked so much.

All of the weak, pure-blooded vampires were dead now, destroyed by a virus created using Drake's own blood. The virus had spread across the city in a matter of days, and would encircle the whole planet within months. Blade was immune. His blood held enough of the human element to keep his heart beating so slowly that it didn't register on the human's medical equipment. Once the virus had burned itself out in the city then he would awaken. The best part was that Blade thought Drake was dead; he thought that a pure vampire, father of all vampires, whose blood had been used to destroy the others, could not possibly have survived. But Drake had merely slowed down his own heart, sinking back into the sleep of ages until the danger had past...just like Blade except with greater control.

He had awoken in the morgue while the human's were busy with the remains of all the others who had died that day, vampire and familiar. No one had seen him rise from the gurney, or heard him as he fed upon a morgue attendant before taking the man's strange baggy green clothing. And no one had seen him when he followed the scent of King's blood to several floors above and removed the drugged unconscious man from his hospital bed. Drake recalled mention of a tracking device, and it was easy to locate and remove the small chip that he found exactly where King had jokingly said it would be, several inches below his tattoo.

Now they were alone, thousands of miles away from the city where Blade had awoken in the belief that he would be the last of the vampires once the virus had spread across the world.

In past lives Drake had been a king, lording over his human and vampire subjects by use of the sword. He had learned from Danica Talos that in this new world the true kings did not sit openly on thrones but ruled over great empires in the criminal underworld. He had already marked a new territory for himself, planning to take it from the Russian vampires as they fell to the virus. And once the virus had burned out across the world then perhaps he would sire a new race of vampires...or perhaps just one.

Drake stretched out alongside the naked body lying on the wide bed in the expensive suite supplied by his Russian _vampire children_. He let one finger travel down the muscular chest from the impalement scar from a silver stake, to the tiny new scar from a removed tracer chip. He had caused both scars. Soon Hannibal would awaken from his drugged sleep, and then Drake would have the pleasure of taking him as a human lover, before turning him and taking him again as a vampire.

He hoped the insolence would taste just as sweet in both forms.

END


End file.
